


all i ever wanted (was a life in your shade)

by YoyoString



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, BEING FUCKIN GAY, Hurt No Comfort, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, SAD SUGA WARNING, SUGAWARA IS SAD BEWARE, Yearning, idk what happens with college or whatever for them buuutttttt, listen i've only watched up to like part of season 3 and i know this isn't how it actually goes, no happy ending, technically it's not unrequited or reciprocated but...
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-14
Updated: 2020-08-14
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:07:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,899
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25890355
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YoyoString/pseuds/YoyoString
Summary: "He was too sure, Sugawara thought wildly, this boy that Suga loved, this boy who Suga loved that was telling him that he loved him back but would not, could not, would not be with him. "Sugawara is forced to ponder the time he was rejected by his best friend, despite the fact that said best friend was, is, and, unknown to Suga, always would be, just as in love with him as Suga was.
Relationships: (one-sided), Sawamura Daichi/Sugawara Koushi
Comments: 2
Kudos: 20





	all i ever wanted (was a life in your shade)

Two years. 

“It all comes down to what we deserve in life,” Daichi had said, words slurred and thoughts philosophical from sleep deprivation. 

College. College college college. It was all anyone talked about these days, Sugawara thought, scowling unconsciously and then yawning with his own sleep deprivation. 

Daichi and Suga had had these sleepovers since they were children. To study, mostly, in middle and high school, but also to just talk and be together when their fatigue took over. 

The familiarity of it - 

-ached. It ached. Suga sighed, watching a raindrop slide down the window of the cafe he was trying to study in. Now wasn’t the time to be reminiscent about his high school years; he had so much to do right now… it was true that he was ahead in this class, but he could tell from his own gradually sloppier notes that that wouldn’t hold for much longer. 

He was so tired, though. His high school study sessions had always been with Daichi and Asahi, or even with the whole volleyball team, scolding the younger members like children and laughing. It had made it infinitely better, the intense studying, when he couldn’t help but laugh all the while. And - 

-they always ended up like this at these sleepovers, especially in the summer, sprawled out on the floor of Daichi’s room instead of his bed to minimize sweat. On their sides, facing one another, pillowed by their arms or a textbook, not quite touching but so close that they might as well have been.

The wind blew cooler in Daichi’s room than in Sugawara’s, for some reason, but the air still hung heavy, heat and humidity tangible. Daichi’s window was open, orange light filtering in with the breeze, and they had turned on the fan, but it wasn’t any use - they joked that they had to turn themselves like roasting turkeys on sticks, to prevent themselves from sticking straight onto Daichi’s wooden floors with sweat. 

Daichi was always pretty. It was a fact Sugawara had stored in the corner of his mind; he even distinctly recalled telling Daichi that when they had met in primary school. Kid-Daichi hadn’t blinked once before grinning wider than Kid-Suga had ever remembered (the first, but not the last, time he would see that kind of grin from him) and returning the compliment, reaching out to poke Kid-Suga’s pale bangs. 

Sugawara usually didn’t have to actively repress remembering that fact. He’d had years of practice, you know. And, really, it was a fact, not any kind of recurring thought. But his sleep-addled brain could hardly stop it from surfacing to the forefront of his thoughts in moments like these. 

The orange street light illuminated one dark brown eye, Daichi’s pupil still hilariously large in the relative darkness. His angular jaw, the relaxed slope of his neck, the curve of the one visible eyebrow and even the gentle tiny quirk of his lips, pursed in thought with whatever he was thinking about. 

It wasn’t as if Suga was new to any of it. He’d given up a long time ago on actually trying to not get caught staring. 

Daichi looked back, single eye refocusing as he half-smiled. “You look like you’re trying to scan me for later.” 

Instead of answering directly, Sugawara said, “We both leave for college in three weeks.” 

“A month.” 

“Three weeks is a month.” 

“A month feels longer than three weeks.” 

“A month, then, fine.” 

Daichi was fully smiling now, and as always, Suga couldn’t help but smile back. 

When everything was cloaked in darkness besides the two of them, Sugawara wondered if he should think about how he himself looked, instead of just watching his best friend’s face like he was - indeed - trying to scan him for later. But who could blame him? 

“What do you mean by saying that?” Daichi asked, after the sleepy pause. He shifted, wincing, his arm clearly asleep. 

In the rustling of Daichi’s rearranging, Suga asked in turn, “What were you saying earlier?” 

Daichi stopped, gave him a look - Suga, you’re being cryptic and strange - but clearly was too tired to dig. “Um - something, something, what we deserve in life? The philosophy thing?” 

“Did you make that up?” Sugawara asked. “Or is it actually a philosophy thing?” 

Daichi groaned, but was smiling wider. “You don’t have to find me out like that. Hell if I know, it’s just in my head. Maybe I read it somewhere.” 

“That’s what I’m here for,” Suga said, giggling a little and then yawning. “I was scanning you for when we go to college and leave each other.” 

The words had come without consideration, which was rare for Sugawara generally but not rare for him on nights like these. He always usually just prayed that Daichi was more tired than him and wouldn’t remember in the mornings. 

Suga closed his eyes. The darkness behind his eyelids was barely that; if he tried hard enough, he wondered at the flickering form of Daichi’s face imprinted there, on the inside of his eyelids, there for him always. 

“Suga,” Daichi said. “We can visit each other. It’s Japan, we aren’t moving worlds away from one another.” 

God, Sugawara wished Daichi had been right in that moment. He took a sip of coffee, tepid from being forgotten next to his notes. He barely even liked coffee, but it made him feel more awake than tea, nevermind their similar caffeine contents.

The bitterness was a not-so-refreshing reminder of... things. 

But still, he could practically feel the bags underneath his eyes darkening. He yawned for the millionth time since he’d shacked up in this cafe (only God knew how many hours it’d been), his head and throat protesting at the strain. 

Oh, to hell with it. 

He pillowed his head in the heavenly cloud of giant hoodie sleeve-encased arms and closed his eyes and let himself remember. 

“You know what I mean,” Sugawara had said. His voice felt tiny. He felt tiny. “Daichi… after all of this… after all these years…” 

Daichi didn’t respond. Suga kept his eyes closed. 

It suddenly wasn’t very hot in the room, no matter the sweat on Sugawara’s brow. He felt quite cold, in fact. The coldness wormed into his stomach, weaving between his ribs, making it hard for him to breathe. He curled into himself, taking care to not touch Daichi. 

His words had already turned bitter on his tongue. 

“Suga…” 

“It’s okay, Daichi. You don’t need to say anything.” God. He could hear how thick his own voice was, how childish and petty it had become in this feeling of loss. 

“No, Suga. I think we’ve been honest with everything besides this. I understand, now. Three weeks.” Suga felt an unfortunate mix of both exhausted and buzzing with adrenaline. “You’re right. I… what I said, earlier. What we deserve. What we owe to one another.” 

Sugawara knew, preemptively, already, that he would not feel anymore honest after this conversation, no matter how laid bare his chest became; no matter how his palms would be facing up and out, cards on the table.

Daichi’s voice was just as forced as Sugawara felt, thinking about all of this. 

“It’s you. It’s always been you for me, I think - I hope you know that. It will always be you for me.” But. But. But. “But we live in the world we do. And I think - I think, I’ve thought about this a lot - because I can live without you. I think it means I have to.” 

If it was anyone else, the words would have tumbled out, painfully fast, jumbled and flustered. But Daichi’s every word was measured, the sleepy dragging gone and each word deliberate, careful. 

He was too sure, Sugawara thought wildly, this boy that Suga loved, this boy who Suga loved that was telling him that he loved him back but would not, could not, would not be with him. 

Well, in hindsight, remembering was not all that fun. But at this point it had become like a fun and terrible dream, his mind drifting hazily, the noises of the cafe remaining at that quiet murmur. 

“That isn’t fair,” Sugawara said, hating the tremble in his own voice. He wasn’t one to throw off softness in the name of masculinity, but in this moment he only wished he could steady this shaking. He still hadn’t opened his eyes. There was no more amber glow left in this night. 

“Suga -” 

It was dull now, all of it. Sugawara squeezed his eyes shut harder until he saw stars. 

“It isn’t fair. I understand, Daichi, but it isn’t fair.” 

In this world that they lived in. In a society where this sort of thing was frowned upon, in a little town in Japan, two high school athletes, two boys… 

No, of course not. Of course not. 

Sugawara was done, and he said so. 

“I understand, Daichi. I think I’m going to sleep now, good night.” The words were painfully formal. But Suga was never one to try very hard to convince someone of different opinions, especially when he’d heard the heavy resolve in his best friend’s voice. 

It was a while before Daichi spoke up. “Yes, it’s late. Good night, Suga.” 

Suga didn’t open his eyes again for the rest of the night. 

Because, really - just because Daichi knew he could live without Suga - and he knew, clearly, what with that certainty in his tone - didn’t mean that Suga could truly live without Daichi. 

Oh, of course his heart was still beating, and he’d gotten through two years of college, studying hard and working long hours and he went to see Karasuno games, watching his former teammates evolve and grow and become the best versions of themselves. He had laughed and cried and hugged every team member individually. 

But that was disregarding every moment he spent staring blankly, thinking, wondering, wanting. 

It was a little pathetic, even his generally emotionally receptive self had to agree. It’d been two years. Hurry up, heart, heal already, eh? 

Daichi had been at the Karasuno games, too. They still texted sometimes. Sugawara posted mostly vague food or bullet train travel pictures on social media, but Daichi posted pictures of his new college volleyball team, with whom he seemed close enough but not quite to the level that Karasuno had been. 

And, more importantly, Daichi posted pictures of himself with his girlfriend. 

Two years since Sugawara and Daichi had unofficially parted ways as best friends.

One and a half years since Daichi and Yui Michimiya had started dating officially. 

At first, Suga had been beating himself up for feeling so bitter. Of course Daichi had every right to - to date whoever he wanted, to move on with his life. By all means, Sugawara should’ve been doing the same thing. Dating someone else, making his own memories in college like the laughing bar selfies Daichi would post on his social media, arm slung around Michimiya’s shoulders, a kiss being firmly pressed to his blotchy pink cheek. 

But over time, he had accepted it. There was nothing he could properly do to stop himself from feeling this way. Every now and then, he would recall, and be unable to prevent himself from staring at pictures of Daichi happy and flourishing on Instagram, living a real life. 

It was what he had meant that night. Daichi was clearly living without Sugawara. 

When they did meet - twice or thrice that first year, for coffee, trying to talk - it always was wonderful. At first, to be precise; it was wonderful at first, immediately sliding back into the old cadences they had developed in years of friendship, easy as breathing. Sugawara missed Daichi like a limb, and Daichi clearly missed Suga as well, and would say so, hugging him tightly enough to steal his breath in one more way. 

“You’re getting thin,” Daichi had complained, releasing Suga and stepping back, looking at him. 

Sugawara had froze. 

The coffee shop they’d met in blurred around him.

It was true he wasn’t eating well. He was in college, and - to be honest, although he’d always been responsible for the whole of Karasuno’s well-being in a parental sense… now that he had no one to take care of but himself, he couldn’t be bothered. 

But that was just how it was, right? College was rough on everyone. Suga had chosen a particularly difficult path in terms of workload, all super advanced classes and internships and small jobs to make himself some extra allowance. And so as much as he loved volleyball, he hadn’t managed to establish himself in a club or team to continue. He’d assumed that all college students went this way. 

Clearly not, since Daichi was just as built as he had been in high school, if not more. 

He had always been stocky, but his shoulders were more filled out now, solid muscle in his torso pressed against Suga’s layers and layers of sweaters. 

“Suga?” Daichi had said, concerned, and Sugawara shook his head to rid himself of the momentary thought bubble that had formed. 

“Sorry, you’re right, I just haven’t been exercising lately.” 

“Or eating?” Daichi’d said, clicking his tongue. 

“Or eating. Fine, fine, I’ll admit university’s been a lot…” 

And, it had been easy. And wonderful. 

Until it wasn’t. 

Because the conversation turned to friends, as it always did, and Daichi had already been with Michimiya at that point, and Suga found himself hurting in such a specific way he didn’t know how to vocalize it politely or work past it. 

And after that, after the realization of how things had changed, the conversation would always turn impersonal, painfully polite and concise. Awkward silences and stumbling words, grasping for new topics, galore. 

The topic hung heavy in the air between them, as it always had. But this time they had already talked about it. There was nothing more to discuss, clearly. An impasse. 

So after the first year of college, beyond occasional texting (even though that tapered off after a while, too) and seeing one another at Karasuno games, they didn’t stay in contact any longer. 

Suga wasn’t stupid. He really did understand everything perfectly, as he’d said. All too well, even. 

But it didn’t hurt any less that Daichi didn’t need him as much as he did. 

It was a loss of a childhood friend, too. Like a missing arm. Like forgetting to breathe. Like the sky had become fixed permanently with a terrible springtime grey; like Suga’s teeth chattering when he sat waiting for the subway alone; like joining college friends for a bar night and sitting vacantly and with a tragic air about him the whole time; like people eventually stopping their attempts to reconnect properly or connect at all. 

But really. It was okay. Even if it wasn’t, it was okay. 

Once, Sugawara had seen Daichi walking with Michimiya in the street. Japan wasn’t very big, as Daichi had said, after all. He wondered what shot through Daichi’s head in that moment that widened his eyes like so, and he wondered what made Daichi turn away as if he’d never seen him at all. 

Now this, this - this wasn’t fair. 

Suga hadn’t done anything wrong. 

The eye contact hadn’t been long, and Sugawara had been forced to consider what he looked like from Daichi’s perspective - huddled over his phone, a scarf wrapped haphazardly around his neck and the bottom half of his face to thwart the late autumn chill. Thin underneath his heavy backpack and several layers. Dark circles, his face paler than ever, hair straggly in its silver-blondeness, eyes hooded and blinking quickly as he’d worked hard to fight back tears. 

And it’d ended as fast as it’d started, so all of that was pointless, anyways. Daichi had probably thought, “oh no, he looks terrible, but my girlfriend is here”, and then his thoughts of Sugawara had probably ended with that. 

It was wishful thinking in a horrid way. Because the thought of Daichi lying awake at night as long as Suga did, trying hard not to think of the times they’d fallen asleep with legs thrown over one another, trying hard not to think of where they used to be versus where they were now, was worse than anything. Especially after Daichi had made his decision. 

Sugawara raised his head from his arm-pillow. The light outside had dimmed a lot, the raindrops no longer as illuminated on the window, and the cafe was quieting even more to a lower murmur. 

For a long and wild moment, he stared at his phone, thumbing the home button, considering texting or calling Daichi. Telling him what he remembered, telling him how much he missed him, telling him everything. Like they used to. 

The comfort of nostalgia wasn’t nearly as potent as its ache. 

Suga rallied his self-control, telling himself he had at least this much respect for himself, and set his phone down. 

He began to pack up his things. There hadn’t been much studying today, but it was always gruelling nowadays, alone in cafes, alone at his desk in his dorm room. Alone. 

It was late, anyways.

Heart heavy, coffee bitter on his tongue and regret bittersweet in the back of his throat, Sugawara went home to make himself try and get through another cold autumn night. 

Tomorrow would be two years and a day.


End file.
